


for such gestures

by wordsmithie



Category: Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pining, Romance, and maybe diana is too?, barbara's smitten, rip to steve but barbara's different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28626507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmithie/pseuds/wordsmithie
Summary: She’d curved her fingers around the cold stone and uttered the thought that filled her, now that she knew Diana. But her wish had snagged on the memory of Diana’s blue eyes. Instead ofI want to be herher mind stumbled toI want to be hers.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Barbara Minerva, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Barbara Minerva
Comments: 58
Kudos: 347





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this story is a series of fluffy, nothings really, inspired entirely by that dinner scene between diana and barbara which had far too much chemistry that patty jenkins decided to waste shamelessly.

_ For such gestures one falls hopelessly in love for a lifetime.  _

\-  _ The Waves _ , Virginia Woolf

*

She’d curved her fingers around the cold stone and uttered the thought that filled her, now that she knew Diana. But her wish had snagged on the memory of Diana’s blue eyes. Instead of

_ I want to be her _

her mind stumbled to

_ I want to be hers. _

*

Even though she'd struggled against the man in the park, her mind had almost been resigned to it. She’d known that she didn’t have the strength nor the skills to resist him. The rest of the night had played out in her head, a futile struggle, her hating herself, and afterwards, finding a police station and half-heartedly submitting a report that would be lost to the channels of bureaucracy and indifference, going to bed and waking up to pretend that she wasn’t bothered. It almost surprised her, the way it seemed familiar. 

But then - incredibly, impossibly - she’d been rescued. She’d been losing breath, her vision darkening, preparing for the worst, and then she’d felt blessedly cold air surrounding her, then strong hands steadying her. 

Looking up into Diana’s eyes had felt like an impossible dream. She was used to the wild beat of hope in desperate situations, but never expected that hope to become reality. Barbara’s heart had thrummed its way from panic to relief to something else. Something like hopeless love. 

*

Diana’s eyes had to be the excuse. Bright as a bolt of lightning, they made Barbara feel like a deer in headlights, like the deer, hit by the headlights, breath stolen, life handed over, dead and gone to the fields of Elysium. Yeah, OK, maybe that was being a bit over dramatic. But the woman’s eyes were ridiculous, she had to admit. Barbara had barely been able to look away from them during dinner. She’d felt herself being overbearing, overeager, and she was afraid that Diana, just like everyone else, would be over her. She hadn’t expected Diana to seek her out again.

So the stone must’ve been the reason. That is the only explanation she can think of for Diana coming up to her the next day, that galaxy-wide, star-bright smile on her face and taking Barbara’s elbow in her hand. It is difficult not to see nebulae blooming when looking into Diana’s eyes. 

“Do you want to have lunch with me today?” she asks in that easy, husky tone. 

And it’s laughable that it’s a question, because it’s not remotely so for Barbara. It’s a second chance on a silver platter.

“Of course,” she says, nodding, her straggly, energetic curls emphasizing her overeagerness (always overeager). “I mean – yeah, I lunch every day. So, why not, you know?” Her shrug is more like a twitch. She winces inwardly.

Diana simply gives a short laugh, says “Great,” and walks away.

*

At lunch, Diana wants to know all about her: where she was born, where she studied, the many places she got her many qualifications.

Barbara is uneasy under so much attention. She craves it, sure, but it’s akin to being in white sunlight after hiding in the shadows for too long. The brightness will sting for awhile no doubt. So, she tries to turn the gleam back on Diana.

“What about you?” she says, trying to keep the hungry curiosity out of her voice. “What was your education like? Where did you grow up?”

Diana smiles, leaning back in her chair and tipping her glass to her lips. The wine makes her lips seem richer and Barbara quickly brings her eyes back to the other woman’s.

“Oh, I…,” her gaze becomes wistful. “I grew up far away from here. In the middle of nowhere.” Her smile turns crooked, no doubt intended to mollify persistent interest. And for awhile, Barbara is. Mollified that is. Because each curve and dip of Diana’s lips seem to require many protracted moments of study. But she squirrels them away to marvel at in private, to pore over them like winking jewels in the dark, and tries to push further. Except Diana seems to sense her further questions and parries with another answer.

“My mother oversaw most of my education. She was determined that she be involved in all aspects of my learning.”

“So, you were home-schooled?” That might go towards explaining a little of the strange haze of other-worldliness that Diana seems to carry.

Diana laughs. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“I was home-schooled for a bit, too, you know.” Though that experience hadn’t given her that same elusive quality of Diana’s. It had only further increased whatever awkwardness came naturally to her and made it even more difficult to fit into society, making her even more hungry to do so. “I hope you had better luck with friends than me,” she says, her eyes flicking briefly away. “It can be hard for home-schooled kids. Especially ones growing up in the middle of nowhere.”

The bright gleam in Diana’s eyes becomes muted as she turns thoughtful, a frown notching between her brows. “Mmm.”

“What – what did your mother teach you?” She stumbles over her words, grappling for nonchalance. The sudden intensity that has settled over Diana, though restrained, unnerves her.

That seems to do the trick because Diana looks away with a huff of laughter. It allows Barbara to take a steadying breath.

“Oh, everything from poetry to mathematics.” Her eyes follow some unseen trail as she recalls her childhood, her lips settling into that wistful curve again. “Astronomy. The classics.”

“Wow. She was really going for that Renaissance man thing, huh? Except, I guess, it was ‘woman’ in your case. Or – ‘girl’.” She stops talking. Thank God, she stops talking.

Diana laughs again. “Something like that. Though, I can’t credit my mother for everything. My aunt was the one in charge of my physical education. I suspect she snuck a bit of philosophy in there, too.”

“They sound like amazing women.” Barbara’s jealous. It’s true that she’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but that had come with a pair of distant parents. She might’ve been home schooled, but she would’ve given an arm to have gotten half as much attention from her mother as Diana obviously received from hers.

“Yeah. Yeah, they were.” Diana inhales deeply and, crossing her arms, she leans forward on the table, her eyes narrowing. “So, Miss Minerva, you’ve deflected all my questions back at me. Am I to understand that you’re not a fan of the spotlight?”

She drops her gaze from Diana’s teasing eyes and gives a nervous laugh. If only she could tell her just how much she craves the spotlight, that one has to learn to get used to what one has yearned for for so long. “It’s not like you’re an open book,” she dares, risking a glance up. “You say a lot without revealing too many details.”

There’s an appreciative gleam in Diana 's eyes, acknowledging her hit. “Perhaps, we’re both a little too used to our shells.” 

Barbara’s certain that the other woman isn’t trying to dampen her enthusiasm for fear of it singeing away any possibility of new friendships. She pretends to agree, though. “Perhaps. Though your shell isn’t really doing a very good job, ‘cause it can’t really hide all your, you know,” she gestures wordlessly, fanning her fingers in an attempt imitate the general, solar-like aura that Diana seems to ooze, “your ‘wow’ factor, because it’s kinda blinding.”

Diana’s laugh seems to take even her by surprise. “You do wonders for a girl’s ego,” she says, her eyes almost disappearing as they crinkle in amusement, and Barbara thinks that perhaps it might not take as long to get used to the sunlight as she originally thought. 

*

The second time it happens in the park Barbara almost rolls her eyes, wishes that she’d taken up Diana on her offer of lessons. But then again, impossibly (can a thing be impossible if it happens twice, she wonders), Diana’s there again. 

“You’re starting to make a habit of this.” Diana’s low voice is gently chiding in her ear.

“It’s not - not really my intention,” Barbara says, clinging to the other woman’s arms. 

“Maybe you ought to try a different route?” Her eyes run quickly over Barbara’s length, and even though Barbara knows that it’s just to see if she’s safe, she feels a pleasant warmth unspooling in her stomach. She basks shamelessly under Diana’s attentive scrutiny. It feels nice to be the centre of Diana’s attention.

“Well, I - I bring dinner for Rudy who hangs out in the park, so.” The adrenaline, though ebbing away, still robs her of her ability to piece her words coherently. Or perhaps it’s the fact that Diana’s arms are still around her and it’s proving quite the task to restrain herself from burrowing into the folds of the other woman’s coat. God, imagine if she did. How would she be able to look Diana in the eyes at work tomorrow? 

Diana simply watches her for a moment, letting the silence swell between them, before shaking her head and guiding Barbara back down the path. Diana’s arms, Barbara makes a mental note, are still around her. 

“Fine. In that case, I insist on teaching you some self-defense manouvres. We start tomorrow.” 

Barbara smiles and lets herself be pulled forward. There’s no way she’s objecting to that. 

*

Diana is an incredibly patient teacher. Which is just as well because Barbara finds it hard to focus on the moves. Despite the fact that all she’d wished for was to be in Diana’s presence, proximity seems to make everything worse. Proximity is the glaring torch that reveals just how different they are - how self-assured, how steady Diana is, and how unsure, how nervous Barbara is. 

Diana doesn’t seem to notice, though Barbara has to wonder if it’s more a case of choosing not to notice. She really hopes it’s the former because otherwise it seems pitiful. She’s tired of being pitiful. 

“You can’t be distracted.” Diana’s voice cuts through Barbara’s doubts. “Fights are not like how the movies like to make out. People have a habit of being unpredictable. You need to keep your eye on them.” 

Barbara nods, swallowing. Her own eyes flit away and then back to Diana (they can’t seem to stay away for long). 

“You sound as if you’ve had lots of experience with this.” She’s half in awe, but she’s also a little intimidated. And maybe she likes that.

“Yes, I guess you could say that.” Diana gives that crooked smile, and while Barbara makes the stupid decision to take a second to marvel at it, Diana rushes her, sweeping out her legs from underneath her feet. 

Barbara gasps on the floor and considers the ceiling with surprise. Diana’s face comes into view. “I told you that you should be prepared,” she says, holding a hand out. Her grin can only be described as cheeky.

Barbara tries for a disapproving look before taking the outstretched hand. 

*

She doesn’t really think that she’ll come across her harasser a third time in the park. But three weeks later when she’s crossing the little bridge she hears a small sound behind her that doesn’t sound like an animal or the rustling of wayward bags. Her blood suddenly thrums with nervous anticipation and she tries to cast her mind back to the lessons, tries not to think about how disappointed Diana might be if she messes this up. 

She can feel him coming closer, and in a spurt of inspiration she decides she’ll round on him when they reach the crest of the bridge. Hopefully the surprise and his own momentum will carry him down the dipping descent of the stonework and she won’t have to do much after that. 

But before she can turn and elbow him, she hears a muted grunt and whips around to see the man’s body slump to the ground. Diana is standing over him looking a little sheepish. And regal, because she always looks regal.

“I was psyching myself up to take him!” Barbara had meant it to sound accusatory but she’s a little too nervous for it to be convincing.

“I’m sorry,” Diana says with a wince and steps over the prostate body of her attacker, her eyes on Barbara. “I guess I make a terrible teacher. My aunt would be disappointed.”

Barbara sighs. She’s not going to admit that she’s secretly relieved.

“I should’ve let you try it out yourself.” She comes to a stop in front of Barbara, her eyes steady but keen.

“Why –“ Barbara stops to clear her throat. Something about the look in Diana’s eyes makes it hard for the words to come out – “why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Diana says, shrugging, her eyes running over Barbara’s features, her hand lifting to push aside a stray strand of hair that is hanging close to her eyes. “I guess I’m…over-protective.”

“Oh.” Barbara feels dazed with the knowledge.

“Mmhmm,” Diana murmurs, and there’s that notch between her brows again. “That was my reaction, too,” she says, right before her hands cradle Barbara’s face and her lips come down over Barbara’s. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She has to tell Diana somehow. She has to tell her that their connection is nothing but the falsely glittering result of a desperate wish. 

Barbara chews on the skin of her thumb as her eyes run unseeingly down the inventory list of the new shipments. She has to tell Diana somehow. She has to tell her that their connection is nothing but the falsely glittering result of a desperate wish. 

Except. Except she isn’t sure if she would be brave enough. Who would be brave enough to refuse sunshine when it rained down on them so abundantly? Is she brave enough to choose bleak cold over intoxicating warmth? Especially after having craved that intoxication for so long.

“Hey, Barb.” It’s Kevin. His face peeks around her door, his nose wrinkled. “Heeey. I know you asked for those research notes on the stone last week but it’s taking me a bit longer than expected.”

Barbara’s eyes bore into him as she tries to switch her brain from its downward spiral into the possibilities of a Diana-less world and to whatever it is Kevin is babbling about. 

“I - I know I should’ve gotten it done a lot sooner, but…” he trails off feebly as the rest of him appears in the doorway. He sticks his hand in his pockets, all nervous fidgeting, clearly not having bothered to come up with an excuse. He probably figures Barbara wouldn’t have asked for one. And he is right. 

“Oh, that’s… that’s OK,” she murmurs, waving her hand, barely registering the overt look of relief that fills his face. The thing is that basking in Diana’s presence is becoming more difficult when she has to contend with the stabbing awareness of her guilty, secret wish. Every smile that Diana directs at her feels stolen. Every accompanying crinkle of her eyes feels like an undeserved prize. 

“Right. OK. I’ll definitely have it for you by next week.” Kevin says, sliding one foot back, already ready to make his escape. 

“Today,” Barbara says. She’ll tell Diana today. 

“Hmm?” Kevin’s eyebrows jump up. “Come again?”

“Oh, yeah, no,” Barbara says, nodding then shaking her head. “Next week is fine.” She waves her hand at him some more. 

“Ah. Great.” And he disappears before the conversation can continue further. 

She’ll tell Diana somehow. She’ll scrape the depths of her to find whatever bravery she can to tell Diana the truth.

*

She doesn’t tell Diana. 

She had absolutely planned to. She had been practicing the speech for the whole drive to Diana’s apartment. She had been reciting it right up to her door. When her bravery is only available in scraps she has to cling to it, after all. 

But then Diana’s voice as she had called for her to come in sounded scratched and horrible. 

“Diana?”

“In here.” Diana sounds faint and jagged at the edges. 

“Oh my God, are you alright?” Barbara rushes into the bedroom, following the sound of the tired voice, her heart in her throat at the possibilities of what might have happened to Diana. 

“Yeah, I’m just” - there is a pause, a sneeze, and then the loud, comically trumpet-like sound of Diana blowing her nose. 

Barbara comes to a stop in the door frame of the bedroom. Diana’s sitting under a bundle of heaped blankets, crumpled tissues discarded around her, and her dark locks falling in tangled strands. 

“Hello,” she croaks at Barbara. Her husky voice is made even huskier, Barbara notes with some embarrassment. “It’s just the flu. You don’t need to look so worried.” She flashes that crooked smile again.

“Oh.” Barbara clears her throat. “I wasn’t rea - OK, I was,” she amends at the lift of Diana’s brow. “But it’s just the flu, after all.”

Diana laughs, before crumbling into a short series of coughs. “Yes,  _ just _ the flu. I haven’t been able to do anything I planned today. This just-the-flu has completely undone me.”

“Oh, you’ll bounce back,” Barbara says, lowering herself onto the edge of the mattress. Diana’s eyes have a habit of pulling Barbara closer and Barbara is never strong enough to fight them. She knows because she has tried. “You seem like the steely type.” 

Diana’s eyes narrow and her lips curve slightly. “Do I now?”

“Mm hmm.” She stands up, collecting the discarded tissues. “It’s strange though, to see you with the flu. You just seem so untouchable.” She dumps the tissues in the bin and turns around to see that Diana has fixed her with a peculiar look. 

“I’m not as untouchable as you might think.” Hushed by the quiet of the room, Diana’s words seem even more muted. 

Barbara inhales. It doesn’t seem as if Diana is talking about the flu. Barbara blinks fast and tugs at her hair. She feels like a fraud. 

“I’ll make you some soup,” she says as she pulls Diana’s covers straight, avoiding the woman’s eyes all the while. “You should rest.” 

She’s almost out the door before her name from Diana’s lips stops her. It’s soft but commanding. It holds sway over her, just as all of Diana does for Barbara. 

“Yeah?” She turns slowly, as if she’s one of those stupid characters in horror films who think that if they’re cautious enough the thing they fear won’t be waiting behind their back. And just like them, she’s wrong. Because Diana is looking at her with enough intensity to make Barbara’s heart clench with fear. 

“Thank you,” says Diana, and Barbara gives a jerky nod with a shameful grin before fleeing the room. 

*

Diana does bounce back from the cold, and she does it with impressive speed. She’s back up and striding around again within the next two days. But those two days of contact seem enough to have felled Barbara because she finds herself calling into work and croaking out her excuses before letting her face fall into the pillow.

She leaves a message on Diana’s direct line, apologising for not being able to make their lunch dates. She’s more than secretly relieved at this break in their interactions. She’s sure that Diana must be able to see the guilt solidifying in her eyes. She tells Diana not to call on her, says that she doesn’t want Diana getting sick again. 

Of course, Diana doesn’t listen. Come lunch time she’s knocking on the door, calling Barbara’s name. Barbara had locked it, fearing exactly this. She feigns sleep and after several more vain attempts Diana seems to give up and Barbara squirrels further under her covers, heavy with guilt and sorrow and self-pity.

*

Except Diana is back the next day and Barbara can’t find it in herself to ignore her again. 

She shuffles to the door and opens it, eyeing the other woman warily. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Diana frowns at her. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh um, you know,” Barbara says, trying for a smile. “As to be expected.”

Diana nods. “I came around yesterday at lunch.”

“Yeah. I was probably asleep.” Barbara bites her lip. 

“Can I come in?” Diana asks. She seems cautious, as if she can sense the shift, and Barbara’s heart clenches again. 

“Of course.” Of course that is what she wants, most of all. To let Diana in. To think that Diana might have a place in her world. To think that Diana might want to have a place in her world. That she might want it all on her own, and not because of some stupid, magical stone. Barbara ducks her head and steps back, making way for Diana to move past. 

Except Diana doesn’t. She shuts the door and remains in front of Barbara until she looks up. 

“Is something wrong?” The question, uttered with tenderness in Diana’s low voice threatens to pull up every shred of buried guilt from Barbara’s lips. 

“Mm hmm,” Barbara nods, keeping her mouth firmly shut.

“Alright,” Diana says, though the frown at her brow says it isn’t. She takes a step back, but it’s not nearly enough for Barbara to breathe easy again. “You should get back into bed. Have you had something to drink today? I can make you some tea.”

“Oh, no, that’s - that’s OK. You don’t have to,” Barbara says, laughing for some reason. 

“You took care of me,” Diana says with that easy ability she has to slip between startlingly differing degrees of intensity. “I haven’t had that in a very long time. Please let me do the same for you.” 

Diana is the one uttering the plea but it’s Barbara’s knees that seem to weaken. 

“Yeah,” she breathes. “OK. Thank you.” She doesn’t sound like herself, only like a distant version of herself. Diana’s small, affectionate smile only makes that distance seem wider. 

Barbara gives a grateful smile and, at Diana’s nudge, shuffles off to bed. 

*

Of course it takes Barbara much longer to get rid of the flu. And Diana insists on dropping by every day to check on her. The painful clenching in Barbara’s heart grows steadily. She feigns sleep for most of Diana’s visits, stealing furtive glances through slitted eyes of Diana reading quietly by her bed. My cup runneth over, she thinks. Except she feels as if she’s the blindingly stupid alchemist who’s slipped poison into her own drink. 

*

When she finally walks into work she heads straight to Diana’s office. She’s not going to put it off any longer. She can’t really go on like this. 

Diana looks up with a frown when she walks in. 

“Hi,” Barbara says, licking her lips. They’re already dry. God. “Sorry, I should’ve knocked.”

“Not at all.” The frown is gone, and instead the blinding grin is there. “It’s good to have you back.”

“OK, no.” Barbara shuts the door firmly behind her and comes to stand in front of Diana’s desk, gritting her teeth with conviction. She’s going to do this. 

“No?” Diana’s brow furrows and she stands. “If you’re still not feeling yourself, you shouldn’t be back at work you know.” She moves around the desk, a hand outstretched to feel Barbara’s forehead and Barbara steps back, leaning away at a ridiculous angle to avoid Diana’s touch. 

Diana stops, both perplexed and amused. “Barbara?”

“Don’t - don’t. Just. Let me say this. Don’t distract me.”

“Am I?” Diana is still confused.

“Yeah, I - if you touch me, I won’t be able to get all my words out.”

“Ah.” There’s a flicker of something in Diana’s eyes, something like kindling heat, and Barbara has to look away. 

“OK. Well. So.” Barbara takes another step, for good measure. “Do you remember that wishing stone?”

“Yes.” Diana’s look of confusion only grows stronger. And more endearing. Barbara mentally chides herself for useless observations. 

“So, I made a wish on it.” She sees Diana open her mouth to interrupt her and she barrels ahead, not wanting to give the woman any other chance to deter her words. “I wished that - I wished for this. For us.”

“For us?” Diana only continues to frown.

“Yeah,” Barbara says, waving a manic finger between them. “For this relationship. I made a wish on the stone. I wished that I could be yours.” The words make her want to curl up in embarrassment. She drops her hands to her side. 

Diana simply stares at her. 

“I just - I wanted to be a part of your world. And for you to be a part of mine. So.” She gives a feeble shrug. “I just wanted you to”-  _ love me _ . But she can’t quite bring herself to say that. 

“You think that I care for you because you made a wish on that stone?” Diana’s words are slow as she tries to process what it is that Barbara has admitted to her. 

“Yeah. I - I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me again.” She tugs at the sleeve of her shirt, already feeling morose. 

“Barbara.” Diana laughs softly. “I can’t - you know, Kevin’s finally completed his report on it.”

Barbara blinks. She’s not sure what this has to do with the horrible secret she’s just revealed. “So?”

“ _ So _ ,” Diana says, tipping her head forward as she takes a step forward, “as it turns out, it is indeed a wishing stone. But that is all it is.”

Barbara frowns up at her. Diana is failing to fight back a grin, and it leaves her both distracted and miffed. 

“It’s not a wish  _ granting _ stone, you see. It was only used as an ornamental artefact in rituals. More symbolic than anything else.”

Barbara blinks owlishly up at the other woman. “What?”

Diana chuckles. “Yes, it’s nothing but a lump of rock. It doesn’t have any magical properties.”

“Are you - are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope,” Diana says, an unabashed grin plastered on her face. “I am most definitely not  _ pulling your leg _ .”

Barbara steps back, tilting her head in astonishment. “Are you telling me that I have been agonishing all this time over  _ nothing _ ?”

Diana bites her lip, though it does nothing to do away her grin. “Are you telling me that all this time you have been operating under the assumption that I care for you because you wished on a  _ stone _ ?”

Barbara stops. “OK, you’re definitely making fun of me now. Besides, Horatio, they do say there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” 

Diana tilts her head, her lips twitching. “Alright, I will give you that. But a stone that grants wishes? You have to admit, that sounds like something out of a cheesy fantasy film.” 

“Hey, I’m kind of an expert on cheesy fantasy films, you know?” Barbara objects. Her play at defiance is undermined by the fact that she sounds breathless. Which is perhaps due to her brain still processing the fact that Diana cares for her all on her own and not because of some bizarre, magical stone. 

Diana shakes her head. “I still can’t believe that you think I could only care for you because of magic.” 

“Well, yeah, I mean, look at me. And look at you. You’re basically a goddess.” Giddiness has loosened her words and they trip out of her mouth with no regard for the acute embarrassment she’ll no doubt feel later. 

The smile disappears from Diana’s mouth as her hands come up to cup Barbara’s face. “Oh, Barbara,” she murmurs, brushing back a strand of Barbara’s hair with her thumb before pressing a heated kiss to her lips. After she makes thorough work of stealing what little is left of Barbara’s breath and presence of mind, she pulls back. There’s a little space for their breaths to meet and mingle. “Is this why you were so distant last week?” Diana whispers. 

Barbara nods. “Mm hmm. The guilt was too much.” 

Diana shakes her head, nuzzling her nose against Barbara’s. “What am I going to do with you?” 

Barbara’s glasses have fogged up but she finds she can’t object. She’s dizzy with the knowledge that she gets to keep Diana in her orbit, that Diana is her reality. 

“You’ll just have to put up with me,” she grins, gripped with a sudden surge of affection that has her grabbing Diana’s neck and pulling her down to pepper kisses on the other woman’s cheeks, nose, forehead, temple. 

Diana’s arms are clasped tightly around Barbara as she laughs against the onslaught. “I think I can manage that,” she says. And she stops Barbara’s attack with a kiss of her own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell that i thought the whole wishing stone thing in the film was a weak premise? it seems like one of the lesser exciting plot points they could have used. gah. 
> 
> anyways, hope you all enjoyed the fluff. it's just these two chapters for now but i may write something else for these two at some point in the future.
> 
> thank you for all your lovely comments, they made my daaaay. ❤❤❤


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